


last stop before hell

by vandoorne



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 18:10:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12281799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vandoorne/pseuds/vandoorne
Summary: set in episode three, season 1. richie forces seth to suck him off after seth finds out that he killed monica.(or does he really?)





	last stop before hell

There had been whispers.

_Richie's not the same any more_

_Gone fucking crazy living in the woods like a fucking animal_

_You can't trust him any more_

_Doesn't matter anyway because you'd want to work with_ two _Geckos and not just the fucked up one_

Seth doesn't listen. Richie's a genius. People have got shit against geniuses. It's a story he repeats often, about the time in New York when Richie was a fucking _artist_ , the Picasso of opening unopenable safes. When you're operating at _that_ sort of level? No wonder people would start to talk shit.

When Richie shows up to bust Seth out during his prison transfer, Seth doesn't bat an eyelid at his getup. Slicked back hair collar all buttoned up glasses just right on his nose. Boy's cleaned up real well in the five years. All that shit about applying himself was real. And what they say about the whispers you hear in prison? Bullshit, that's what it is. It's just like the old days. Seth is the man with the plan, things done my way. He suits up, gets himself ready to go. Driver seat, Richie riding shotgun.

But somehow, something just doesn't settle quite right in Seth's gut. Maybe it's how Richie can't shut up about how he didn't apply himself in prison. Maybe it's how Richie suddenly knows so much about Mexico and is asking him for things like horchata like god, what the fuck? When did he know so much about Mexican food anyway? No, maybe it's just how Richie looks at people, from the fucking bank tellers to the women in the liquor store like he can't decide if he wants to fuck them or fuck them up.

(Or maybe, it's how Richie looks at him sometimes when he thinks he doesn't notice, gaze intense underneath his glasses, as if Seth is his prey that he'll like to play with a little longer before he begins to devour him whole)

Then again, to a certain extent, Seth supposes that he has always known. Sort of. Maybe. There had never been any women, or men, for that matter, for his younger brother. In the beginning, Seth had always thought it was the thing with the fire and being unable to form a connection or some shit to that effect for him. But over the years, it felt like something was growing. Like something was gnawing away at Richie, and Seth would notice. Small things like how Richie's gaze would linger on him from time to time. How his fingers would linger on him for a moment too long. Short enough for him to be able to brush it off easily, but too long for Seth to firmly categorise it as _brotherly_. But still. Seth had put it down to him being paranoid, nothing more. He had always been grateful to Richie for saving him from the fire. Still is. That wouldn't change. And of course, Seth _has_ someone. Vanessa, faithfully waiting for him. Five carrot cakes, baked with cream cheese frosting. Richie had known.

(And of course, there could've never been anything anyway because they are _brothers_ , always were and always will be)

That is, until now. Now is with Richie slamming Seth against the wall with his hand around his neck and he's fucking defenceless, gun on the floor. Now is with the body of a bank teller on the goddamn bed with bits of her torn out like a live model art class gone wrong and Richie's palm is a firebrand on his skin, pressing down and burning a mark on him. Against anyone else, Seth would struggle. Fight and claw his way out of this. But this isn't anyone else. It's _Richie_ with his glasses slipping down his nose and there it is, in his eyes. It's not anger, not the same shit that Seth had feared before, in the bank, in the liquor store, and out there in the desert. Seth recognises this look — raw, primal need to consume and devour completely, to make him his own.

'You're not listening to me,' Richie repeats. His grip is harder now. It's getting harder for Seth to breathe, but Richie pays no mind to it.

'Richie,' Seth struggles. His tongue feels thick in his mouth. Like it doesn't belong there. Richie leans in closer. Seth can smell him, blood, sweat, remnants of aftershave. The corners of his lips are curled up in a faint smile. Seth knows this look. Seen it so many times to know that he doesn't want to be on the receiving end of that look, but here they are.

'On your knees.' Seth has heard Richie use this tone often. At a heist, roughing someone up. Getting things done his way. But never on him. Never _to_ him. ' _Seth_.'

Seth feels his knees give way under him. No control. The way Richie says his name sends a shiver down his spine, and he feels it, heat pooling in his gut. The horrible coil of desire as Richie pushes him down, making him stay on the floor. He looks up at Richie, fights back the urge to gasp for air now that he no longer has fingers wrapped around his throat. This isn't the time to show weakness. _Now what_ , he thinks, even though he already knows the answer. Richie doesn't want him to get on his knees and bend down to lick his fucking shoe. He tells himself to look up. Look at his younger brother, because fuck if he's going to admit to knowing what lies ahead.

Richie doesn't speak. Seth could move away at this instance. Could duck, roll over, grab his goddamn gun and aim it at Richie. But he doesn't. Stays rooted to the ground. Swallows hard. Waits.

The unbuckling of a belt. The pull of a zipper. All of this doesn't prepare Seth for the moment when Richie frees his cock, shoving it into Seth's face.

'Suck.'

Seth winces, wanting to back away. But Richie is quick, he's got one hand cradling the back of Seth's head and then he pushes down. Pushes him closer. His fingers press down onto his scalp, not hard enough to hurt, but just enough for him to know who is in control.

Richie guides his cock to Seth's lips. The head is wet with pre-come already, and Seth cannot help but wonder, did he intend for this to happen all along? Or was it a high from killing that bank teller, and he couldn't get off on his own? Or was it from their wrestling in the desert, with Richie straddling his hips as he tried to punch him? Seth had felt it then, the hardness of Richie's erection against his thigh as he had moved in an attempt to turn the tables. Then again, it couldn't have meant anything, right? People get aroused from the adrenalin rush of violence all the time, right? Fuck. Seth breathes, through his nose, god he's fucking scared that Richie might take it as an invitation to slam his cock into his mouth immediately. He's not ready for that. Not yet.

Seth sticks his tongue out to lick. Licking is something he can do for now. God it's fucking weird to be thinking like this — he's never sucked another man off before, and this is his younger brother that he's doing it to now. Yeah sure, Richie is pretty in his own right, with that mouth of his and his pale, creamy skin that probably looks so good when marked but he's a _man_. Seth hasn't even thought of men like this, even with those five years in prison. But this... He tastes Richie, continues licking. Like he's licking a goddamn popsicle, probably. This is different, right? He doesn't want this. Richie's forcing him to do it. Right?

'Come on,' Richie growls. He pushes Seth's head down now, and Seth gags on his cock, struggling to accommodate him fully in his mouth.

Seth's eyes water, god it's one thing to have your cock sucked and another to be on the sucking end, Richie's big in his mouth and so fucking hot, he feels impossibly stretched out.

'Teeth.' Richie's fingers hurt on his scalp this time. Seth reminds himself to breathe, don't fucking choke on Richie's cock because that's what he wants, isn't it? Wrap his lips around his teeth, just like the way he had instructed that girl back in high school when she got to her knees for him. He can do this. God, it's just getting Richie off. Helping his brother out. He will be fine. He can do it.

Richie pulls out, just a little, and then he's thrusting into Seth's mouth again, fucking his mouth. He doesn't make a single sound, and all Seth can think of is that time when he had caught Richie jerking off on the sofa. One of Uncle Eddie's videos had been on the floor, but that was it. There had been nothing playing on the television, and there Richie had been, fisting his cock, pumping furiously, eyes shut. He had watched, barely resisted the urge to palm himself through his sweats as he had watched his younger brother pleasure himself. Then he had taken a cold shower, feeling like he had sinned because it had been _bad hot wrong_ but in the end he had given in, and it had barely taken him five minutes before he was coming with a muffled cry in the shower.

Seth almost jumps when Richie shifts, resting his shoe against his cock. His cheeks burn in shame because fuck, he's hard. He's so fucking hard and aroused from being forced to suck his younger brother off, and when Richie steps down, applying pressure, it's like an electric shock goes through Seth's body. He tells himself to resist, he's not so fucking deprived that he would end up rutting against his brother's foot but god he's too far gone. Every bit more pressure Richie applies has Seth gasping, fuck he needs this, needs to come so fucking badly. Needs more than just Richie's foot against his cock through all these layers of clothes.

(The image comes unbidden to Seth's mind — Richie's hand, fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking, dragging the soft pads of his fingertips over the leaking slit, tracing the thick vein on his cock, his name on Richie's lips, _Seth, come for me_ and oh _god_ , what the fuck is _wrong_ with him, fantasising about his brother jerking him off even while he's forced into blowing him? Fuck, he can't possibly _want_ this, right?)

It doesn't take long before Richie's coming. There's no warning. Nothing. Just Richie pressing Seth's head all the way down, so that his nose is buried against his pubic hair, and Seth is just struggling to breathe, trying not to panic as Richie comes inside him, painting his throat white. Then he pulls out, so that the last spurt of come lands on Seth's face, on his forehead, his lips, his collar.

Seth leans forward in a slump, head resting against his brother's hip. So this is what it's like, huh. To have to unlearn and learn how to breathe, to come so fucking hard when your brother chokes you with his cock and comes all over you, as if he's marking you as his. He's buzzing, every part of him sensitive to the movement around him. The fabric of his shirt against his nipples. Richie stroking his scalp absent-mindedly. The warmth of Richie's shirt against his forehead. For a moment it feels like they haven't done something wrong, they haven't broken any unspoken boundary. For a moment it's the way they were all those years ago. Being close to each other in silence. And isn't this just like old times anyway? All those people asking _Richie's your younger brother, ain't he? You're older, why don't you just give in?_ This is the last thing Seth has left to give, right?

'Are you listening to me now, Seth?' Richie asks. His voice is level, breathing even.

Seth looks up. Richie's face is impassive. His collar is still neat, shirt properly buttoned up, not a single hair out of place. As if nothing had just happened. Seth grunts. He leans back, slumps down on floor. The carpet is clumpy, rough against his palms. What is this in the end, a show of dominance? A desperate plea for his attention? A fucked up way to satisfy his lust? Or maybe it's all of it rolled into one and more.

But then again, does it matter? The thing is, Richie wants. From when they were children, right until now, grown adults on the run from the authorities. Richie always wants something, and he would take it at any cost. Seth has always known. And of course, Seth is his older brother. Ultimately, no matter what, he would always give in to Richie. Because that's what older brothers do, even if their younger brothers are fifty shades of fucked up in the head.

(Richie wants, so he takes. But it doesn't matter, because Seth had always wanted to give it all to him anyway.)


End file.
